Travel Advisory
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: Saying goodbye in the bullpen, and a few other random scenes tagged to Berlin. Featuring the whole team, but focused on Tony and Ziva. Tiva if you squint.


_Tagged to episode 10x21 "Berlin," three random scenes of Tony and Ziva before and during their trip. This story starts off right after Ziva leaves the conference room. The entire team appears, but it's centered around Tony and Ziva, and I tried to write their interaction so that it could be read as either friendship (which is how I prefer them – just sayin'!) or romance._

_(For my own reference: 51st fanfiction, 32nd story for NCIS.)_

* * *

"Tony," she calls, and he turns from his computer to see Ziva practically running downstairs from the mezzanine. "Are you ready to leave?" There's a stormy look in her dark eyes, and it's enough to make him uneasy.

"What, for Berlin?" he asks, fairly caught off-guard. "Right now?"

"_Yes_," Ziva says shortly, glaring at him. "I already told Gibbs we are leaving, and every minute we waste here is another minute when Bodnar could be getting further away."

Tony suppresses a groan. They're looking at a ten-hour flight, both ways. Is Ziva going to be like this the entire time? Is she going to say that every time he stops to enjoy the scenery or grab a bite to eat? As he pulls the airline tickets Vance gave him out his jacket pocket, Tony feels a flutter of dread about their trip for the second time since learning that they would be going to Berlin instead of Rome.

But then, they are traveling to Europe to track and down – and, if they have to, _kill_ – the man responsible for Eli and Jackie's deaths. Maybe he shouldn't have been looking forward to it quite so much. Wil Wheaton's line from _Stand By Me_ plays inside his head – _"We're going to see a dead kid. Maybe it shouldn't be a party."_ – and he thinks of young, promising River Phoenix, years before the hard drugs and the Viper Room.

Ziva grabs her backpack from behind her desk, but before she can start for the elevators, the doors slide open with a ding and Abby steps off. She smiles brightly when she sees Tony and Ziva still in the bullpen.

"Oh, good!" she exclaims, "I was hoping to see you two off before you caught your flight to Berlin. Here, I fixed you both some sandwiches to eat on the plane. Airline food is _gross_." And she actually holds out two folded brown paper bags, as if they were second-graders leaving for school in the morning, instead of government agents leaving for another continent to carry out an assassination order.

"Thank you, Abby," Ziva says impatiently, taking a bag. "And please do not worry about us. We will be fine." Her eyes dart to the clocks on the wall, showing different times all over the world.

Tony takes his bag with both hands and puts on his big puppy-dog eyes. "Gee, did you pack me a Little Debbie cake and a juice box, too, Abby?" He glances over at Ziva as he says it, but she doesn't so much as smile.

Abby, though, smiles and rolls her eyes at his comment. "No juice boxes," she tells him, "but I did pack each of you a individual bottle of Caf-Pow. And remember to drink it wisely – you never know when you might need that extra burst of caffeine."

Ziva looks more impatient than ever with their chit-chat. She starts again for the elevators, but this time, it's Gibbs who stops her. "Ziver," he calls loudly, and they turn to see him hurrying downstairs from the mezzanine. He motions for Ziva to come closer, and she sighs, frustrated, and leaves Tony's side to meet him at the foot of the stairs.

Tony is debating whether or not to go with her when Abby steps closer to him and puts her hands on his shoulders. "Tony," she says, looking at him with a suddenly serious face, "I'm very concerned for Ziva right now. You know how she's been so hung up on this whole catching Bodnar thing."

Tony nods. Their whole team probably shares the same concern. They've all seen Ziva obsessive like this before, but more than anything else, her behavior reminds Tony of how Gibbs was right after Kate died, of his grim determination to find Ari and kill him. He still remembered asking, _"So you can bring him in, Boss?" _and Gibbs's growled reply, _"Yeah, so I can bring him in. To autopsy."_

Gibbs and Ziva are more alike than they realize. What are they talking about over there by the stairs?

He's grateful when Abby interrupts his thoughts. "So you two need to take care of yourselves while you're over there, okay? Take care of each other."

Tony looks her in the eye and says in his most reassuring voice, "We will, Abby, I promise. And I promise I'll bring you a really cool souvenir too, okay?" She smiles again and pulls him into a hug.

As she releases him, he cranes his neck to see Ziva. Gibbs has pulled her into the corner by the stairs and is talking to her in a low voice. His face is as stern as Tony has ever seen it – is he angry with her about something? Tony remembers Ziva's stricken expression when she saw the new Mossad director in their bullpen, and he wonders what just happened upstairs in that conference room.

McGee comes out from behind his desk and walks over to him. "Now remember, Tony," he says, "the time difference is six hours. So nine a.m. in Berlin will be three in the morning here in DC, but — "

Tony feels a twinge of annoyance. "I _know_ that, McPocketwatch," he says shortly, cutting him off. He looks from McGee to Abby and back again. "You guys do know I've traveled internationally before, right? I've been to Europe, South America, the Middle East, Africa..."

He doesn't want to specifically say, _Israel_. He certainly doesn't want to say, _Somalia_. So instead he trails off and glances at the corner again. Gibbs and Ziva haven't moved. Tony sees her duck her head, but Gibbs cups her chin in his hand and turns her face back towards him, forcing her to look him in the eyes. What is telling her?

McGee sighs. "I was about to say," he goes on, sounding annoyed himself, "but if you need anything – you know, like a signal traced or a database hacked, anything at all – just call me, okay? No matter what time it is."

Tony lowers his hackles. "Thanks, McGee," he says sincerely.

Suddenly Ziva is there at his side again. "Are you ready, Tony?" she asks quietly, and he shoulders his backpack and opens his mouth to ask what Gibbs wanted to talk to her about. But he doesn't get a chance because just then, Ziva happens to turn her head so that her dark eyes catch the light. They're bright, glistening with unshed tears, and Tony's question dies on his lips immediately, but he never stops wondering. What did Gibbs say to her that put tears in her eyes?

. . .

Berlin is slower-paced than Rome, less flashy than Rome. Even though he's disappointed when Ziva refuses to go sight-seeing with him – hurt that she apparently prefers to wait alone for her contact to call than see the city with him – he tries to enjoy himself. He sees the Victory Column and the Museum Island. He buys apple strudel from a street vendor and retraces Matt Damon's chase scene through the city from _The Bourne Supremacy_.

He's walking past the park after seeing the Reichstag when he glances across the street and stops abruptly. There, across the wide, leafy boulevard, is an entire city block covered in huge slabs of concrete. He crosses over for a better look. There are probably a few thousand slabs fixed in place in the city square; each one is about as long as a bed, but no two of them seem to be the same height. Some are as low as benches, while others are taller than Tony's head. He wanders among them, trying to walk a straight path through them, but it's impossible. The slabs have been laid down in complete disorder.

There are several other people in the square, walking around and taking photos, and Tony wonders what sort of tourist attraction this could possibly be. Finally, he finds a sign that tells him. _Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas_, it reads, and even though Tony doesn't speak German, he understands it well enough. This is the Berlin Holocaust Memorial.

He ambles through the concrete maze for almost twenty minutes, lost in thought. Tony never said so, but he had been puzzled, ever since January, over why Ziva would want so much to avenge the death of a father that she barely ever spoke to. But here, with the concrete walls barring his way every time he turns around, he thinks that he might understand.

Sight-seeing in Berlin without Ziva has been a bit lonely, but Tony is glad that she isn't here to see this with him. He has an uncomfortable certainty that this sight – with its the rows and rows of huge concrete slabs, like some sort of bizarre cemetery – would only stoke her feeling of loss, her thirst for revenge.

. . .

Their hotel room is quiet, and Tony is grateful for that. They can't hear the traffic on the street below, and so the rest of the world feels far away. Ziva had offered to sleep on the pull-out sofa, but right now, she's lying beside him on the bed, both of them fully-clothed and above the covers. She sighs into the pillows and says that she can't sleep.

"We'll get Bodnar tonight," Tony promises, trying to reassure her.

"I know," she answers quietly, still not looking at him.

But Tony can't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. There are so many ways that their plan to catch Bodnar could go wrong. And as much as they might plan for every possibility, they have no way of knowing exactly how their op will play out in the nightclub this evening. He thinks again, strangely, of River Phoenix, young in the summer sun of _Stand By Me_. How could he have known, then? How could he have known what awaited him in the dark, smokey recesses of the Viper Room?

God, how is he ever going to get any sleep _now_?

Tony rolls onto his side to get a better look at Ziva. No matter what happens, he wants to remember her like this, peaceful and resting, with her guard down for a rare moment. She's so close to him, but her eyes are far away, lost in memories of her father that she doesn't want to share with him. It makes him uncomfortable to let her linger there for too long, so he finally gives into his curiosity and asks, "Zi... what did Gibbs say to you? In the bullpen before we left?"

He knows that she heard him because she raises her eyes to meet his. But she's silent for so long that he doesn't expect her to answer. But she does.

"He told me..." Ziva pauses to take a deep breath and then goes on, her voice slow and halting, "that I still have a father, and that if I took any unnecessary risks on this trip, he would... bust my ass."

Tony smirks against the pillow at hearing such typical Gibbs way of putting things come out of Ziva's mouth. Those were probably their boss's exact words to her._ Listen to me, David. You still have a father, and you better remember that while you're in Berlin. Because if you do anything stupid over there, he will bust your ass when you get home._ Yes, that had to be it – what else, but a warning like that from Gibbs, could've put tears in Ziva's eyes?

"He meant that," he answers softly, "and you know, I've had the Boss bust my ass before. It isn't pleasant."

Ziva gives him a smile; it's small and fleeting, but Tony is sure that it's the first time his partner has smiled at least since they boarded their flight here in DC. "I know," she says, and then she yawns and blinks slowly. Even though she told him just a moment ago that she couldn't sleep, she seems to be dropping off now.

Tony feels lighter, strangely relieved to know that Gibbs told Ziva that she still has a father, that he warned her not to do anything dangerous. He can tell that he's going to sleep better now that Ziva has shared that message with him. In a way, it was something that he needed to hear, too. His gut relaxes, and within five minutes, they're both sound asleep, their arms lightly touching on the bedspread.

**FIN**


End file.
